Lovestain.

Once upon a time, there used to be a girl. Oblivious to the world, in her own happy world with her friends, with the ephemeral loving relationships, in the happiness that those few people brought to her.

She was merry. In her head, nothing but self love evolved. Translated into many different languages, her world was perfect in her head. Defiant teenager, irritating to most adults, misunderstood to most her age yet the most popular. Infamous, perhaps but well known nevertheless. She was happy and that's all that mattered to her.

One day, like any other day, she was venturing out on her own, making a trip to the local basketball court, hoping to have some unadulterated fun. Alone, most likely but fun, anyhow. The evening passed in it's merry overture and she was ready to head home to take on that another sphere of her life. But the fatigue made her sit down with a "friend" who had company of his own. He introduced her to his friend. They greeted one another. She smiled, he responded and then they talked.

She talked to him, like she's talk to any other stranger. And then they went their separate ways. Next day, they talked again, this time a little longer and again headed in their respective directions. The following day, they spoke on the instant messaging system, for long. Slowly, they spoke everyday, laughed together and started to become friends. They started to discuss their lives. Talk about themselves.

Somehow, somewhere, they didn't know what, they liked spending all those hours on the phone. Soon, the hours on the phone translated into rendezvous and they enjoyed it. One of those days, it was raining, they stood under a tree and talked some more. It started to pour much heavily and they ran through the rain, laughing and jumping in puddles of water on the way. They had fun.

Soon after, a phone call changed everything. Those four hours, he spoke, she listened. He said things, she listened. Till he said he loved her and she said, she did too. Everything changed. They were in love. How? When? They didn't know. They didn't care. They were in love and that is all that mattered. Happiness expanded a thousand times over and she hadn't seen paradise so close before.

All was merry, again. Till one day she said to him what she had been hiding for long. She expected everything to turn upside down but on the flip side of things, it bonded them together even more. Her confession, created a crack for a little while but all the love that there was, bound them back together. Things were working out again. She smiled with him again. It was working out perfectly. They'd planned out everything. How they'd spend every day for the rest of their lives, loving one another, taking care of each other till death did them apart.

Horror struck one day when another accident fell into her lap and she sunk in too deep to get out without harming them. She messed up again. This time, however, hell hath no fury. Each time after, he'd see her, he was blinded with fury, resentment and vengeance. All was lost. She had it this close. She didn't realize it was feather light, she blew it off far beyond her reach.

She left a love stain on his heart, on her heart and in the sanctity of all that existed between them. She dug a gorge of mistrust and infidelity. She dug her own cave and she swam in her pool of tears. The mirror was her source of sympathy. Even the mirror refused to sympathize after a while. She had no where to run. She didn't deserve to. She'd ruined what they stood for and she can't compensate for it in anyway. He couldn't let go because he's worked too hard to build it. No man likes to see his creation fail so miserably. He couldn't either and he held on. For all that was worth, they still loved each other. It's credibility, shattered ofcourse but it was love like no other. It was love beyond that which the mind could comprehend. It wasn't love, it wasn't big love, it was Great Love. It was an epic.

And all that it is left to be is a meager Love Stain.

Fool's Paradise.

>When it became from a dream to a nightmare is still unclear...but I know now, that I honestly am afraid to close my eyes,lest I fall asleep and have the same nightmare again.

>When it transitioned into this cloud of smoke from my bubble of hope, I don't know. But it has, and so I avoid any nimbus to hover upon me.

It's like this invisible lair of memories which are crystal clear to me but oh so blurry to him. Is it just my imagination or did they really happen...?

Maybe today is my imagination, maybe everything over the last 3 months never happened. Maybe I'm still sleeping and God, I hope I wake up soon. I know I'm probably fidgeting in bed, throwing myself around the place but somehow, I cannot wake up. You've shut my eyes forever. You sealed them tight and I enjoyed for the moment knowing it made you happy but right now I don't know if that is enough anymore. I don't know what is enough anymore.

You're oblivious, indecisive. I'm just a fool.
Knowing that there is no hope, no future and it's only a matter of time till you disappear... knowing the horror in advance...
I still hope.

Fool's paradise, indeed.

There is no credibility of anything anymore. It's just a farce for you and a morsel of rejoice from time to time for me.

You've changed. I've changed. Everything in between is become a stage show. The easier it becomes for you, the more real it gets for me. The more you detach yourself, the more I seem to sink at my knees. It's like we're tripping on two different drugs. But we both are experiencing a trip, nevertheless.

Fool's paradise.

I like it. I'm comfortable in it. Even if it is to be my end soon.

I'm just running in circled, chasing the sun. Helpless.

A Bad Dream- Keane

Why do I have to fly
Over every town up and down the line?
I'll die in the clouds above
And you that I defend, I do not love

I wake up, it's a bad dream
No one on my side
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I'm not the fighting kind

Where will I meet my fate?
Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate
And when will I meet my end?
In a better time you could be my friend

I wake up, it's a bad dream
No one on my side
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I'm not the fighting kind
Wouldn't mind it
If you were by my side
But you're long gone
Yeah you're long gone now

Where do we go?
I don't even know
My strange old face
And I'm thinking about those days
And I'm thinking about those days

I wake up, it's a bad dream
No one on my side
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I'm not the fighting kind
Wouldn't mind it
If you were by my side
But you're long gone
Yeah you're long gone now


For everyone.

Sometimes I just want to sleep my days and nights put together. When I twist and turn in bed, thinking of reasons to sleep. Just toss around in the sheets, tire myself and fall back to sleep. Sometimes, I just don't want my day to end or for another to begin at all. All of this happens when I'm looking for something, waiting.
I can't sleep.
I can't breathe.
I'm waiting for him to come back.
Because he is everything.

There must be some kind of tranquilizer that would make all of this a bad dream and when the next time I open my eyes, I would find myself in the arms of heaven. The earth, hell and everything in between would've vanished and all that remained would be things that will lift spirits and spread joy. Endlessly.

It happened so fast, he came in, conquered, I disappointed, he left. Just one day, we went walking and he didn't need to take my hand in his anymore. Everything had changed. I knew right then. And then there was the time, when he held me close to him, my body writhing up against the wall, my eyes split wide open in horror, when I saw his hand that once caressed my face, flying across. I felt a pang of emotions, no pain, no hurt, just the repercussion of a fallen cause. Tears streamed down my face, it wasn't because the hit hurt, it was because I knew I deserved it and he hated to do it but he did.

It's all a blur now, from within this curtain, it's all hazy and blurry.
Maybe this is what a slow painful death looks like.
Yes, that must be it.
Because, nothing certainly is worse than this.
Nothing else.

I want to run, run far, run fast.
I want to run so fast that not even my shadow could follow. I want to flee. This is too much pain, too unjust for me to face.
I don't have the strength to fight or justify. I don't know what is right or wrong anymore. Every turn seems to be paved with thorns. Even the inviting doors lead to destruction and destitution. Where does one go when they feel like this?

I want to hide. Hide under my black blanket and never peek through. I want to hide, cover myself head to toe and not leave an inch uncovered or unprotected. I want to hide under this lair of eternity.

I want to hold my head in my hands and cry my eyes out. i don't want the tears to stop flowing till all my anguish and pain is washed away... I want my emotions to flood the emptiness I call life.

Every breath is traded for, every thing I do seems to be a part of a scripted play. Every word I say is part of a pre-written dialog. No credibility. No respect. No faith.
Just hollow... shallow, forsaken, estranged and eventually forgotten.

And then, you'd wave your hand over my face, wipe that dried tear stain, say you care and I melt in your arms, cry hysterically for a few minutes, you'd look me in the eye, say you love me, I'd cry some more, and finally fall back into your trance. You smile... is that an evil grin, or a smile that I once knew, it's hard to tell... I give up. Take me, eat me, chew me to pieces, swallow me, spit me out... I'm yours for the taking.

I'll take whatever comes my way because this is what I created. A monster, perhaps, but mine, nevertheless. Love. Hate and everything in between.

R.I.P.

Somethings Awry and Wonderful.

I poke myself with the sharp edge of the pencil, before it leaves a dark imprint on my skin. I turn it around and with the little eraser at the head of the pencil, I try to rub off the imprint. It lightens but doesn't quite disappear. In the depths of skin the tingly feeling of the poke still prevails and every now and then it throbs to life. The impregnating sensation of the prick reminds me of the first time I got a shot at the doctor's. He said, it would hurt only a little. I squeezed my nose, and close my eyes and waited for the thorny needle to make it's way down into my veins and extract some red dribbly substance. I tried to think of all the things that made me happy- a trick I learned from my much experienced friends- and before any such image could inaugurate my imagination, it was done.

[Not much has changed since then. A lot of important moments just seem to flash by in seconds and more often than not I miss it. It's just carelessly I think or maybe myopic vision. One or the other way, I tend to overlook.]

The graphite mark still haunts me. It's like a bad taste in your mouth. One that you don't forget for a long time. It might seem trivial and unexciting but it's these little things that have begun to govern the way I perceive things. The whole concept of materializing thoughts into action is a way of life that I can only envision. I often wish I could make it happen but some way or another I'm made aware that I think wrong. It's then that the weary feeling of defeat that begins to carve it's way down in the depths of nothingness. The scornful staring at the ceiling starts to get stronger. The mystical aura around the head seems more prominent and the feeling to loss personifies. When everything around me seems to zoom past and all the lights and sounds seem blurry and muffled- like a bad dream. That's probably it. A bad dream.

A.Big.Bad.Dream.

Missing Link.

The common chord that binds two people together, is rather effervescent. One minute it's the tightest most conforming bond and the next it goes up in ashes. It takes years to create a bond worth cherishing and it takes mere seconds to nullify all that it was worth. Everything just brushes aside when you consider what it was that made you angry in the first place. Everything just becomes an insipid amount of pity and regret that governs every move that follows.It becomes weightless and hollow... it creates a void.
And once the void has found a way to creep into our lives, it becomes this incessant parasite that eats away every sensation of happiness and comfort. Be it in the arms of your lover, the folds of your mother's lap or the words of a well wisher. It all comes down to the desperate attempt to fulfill that void- that which seems to haunt you and chase you around till you somehow close your eyes and wish it away.
We all live in the non-belief and illusion of the "someday". Some call it hope, some call it revelation but sooner or later for the most part it turns to regret. Every one is bound to make mistakes in some sphere of life, but where the regret broods is the understanding that the mistake you've made is one that will change your life. It is a vicious cycle of realization and then the final attempt of rectification.
Second chances, third chances...they all materialize when it's something of great interest. Something you wish to save with every inch of your life... hold on to it, till you fade away. Where does that urgency come from.... Dependence.
The truth in it's hardest form, the most tangible and yet the most cryptic reality... Dependence... Symbiosis...
...Love...

Heaven lost.

From the heavens when it came, I just brushed it aside.


To the heavens when it goes back, I reach out for it, I try.


Mourning the loss of something invincible.


Staring at the casket while the earth below crumbles.



Tell me when it's the last Goodbye.

Tell me when it's time to cry.


>For me and for you.<

Comedy of errors.

Often in life, when things are just at their worst best, it all seems rather humorous. Not in a condescending way, but in a helpless state of destitution sort of way. Such is my state off-late.

It laughs in your face- life. It parts ways when you need it-Faith. It shows you the 'Maybe Tomorrow'- Light. But it all seems so futile and figmental.

The only thing to do then, is believe that someday an old sage with wise eyes, will look your way, and smile his toothy grin and say to you in his tranquil eloquence... this too shall pass...

Does it affect me? That's relative too. Relative to pain, hurt, suffering and inhumanity. Could be a morsel to some and apocalypse for another. Perspective.

The judgment of conscience and conformity. As absurd and ambiguous it may seem at first, is actually the most cohesive and yet the most ephemeral gift that He has bestowed upon us.

I look this way or that, the only thought that lingers.... Evanescence.

*Poof*

My Comedy Of Errors.
=(

Beside me.

Right beside me, when I need you. When I cry, your shoulder's the first to catch my tears. When I smile, your eyes are the first to glitter. When I feel lonely you're hand is the first to touch. When I sleep, your voice is the lullaby I hear.

And then I wake up, from the most fulfilling dream in a very long time. I look around and I'm lost because all of that is lost. In the blink of an eye, everything that I touched turned to dust. All that remained are archaic remains of the memories we built with so much love and so much hope.

Beside me lies the corpse of Us. Beside it, is the grave I sleep in.

But the crack in the coffin is reason enough for me to rise and haunt. Lingering in the heart of his resentment and losing blood and breath every second.

Beside me, is the sun, the warmth of which I shall walk away from and embrace the reality that is beyond the bright light. Squinting and then finally donning the rose colored glasses and looking through the mirror- to the other side.

Beside me, is you. Forever and always.

Eat me alive.

Pick me up, throw me down, hold me tight, let me fall. Watch me cry, lick my tears, kiss my face, bite my soul.

Why don't you just eat me alive. t would hurt much less.

Why don't you just throw me away, I would fall far off.

Why don't you just tell me what you want, I wouldn't cry anymore.

Just eat me alive, it will ease the pain.

Insecure. Passionate. Dubious. Incognizant.

Why am I no longer allowed to be Insecure?

Why am I battered for feeling the love?

Why am I being kicked around for how I want to hold your hand?

Why am I gazing into your eyes even though I know you'd never say 'I Love You'.

Why do I jump at the sight of your text message?

Why does a smile spread across my face when you call?

Why do I feel proud of walking right next to you?

Why do I love to show you off?

All of this, just so that I can see those feelings being reborn in your eyes, the affection in your voice, the love in your touch and the belonging in your arms.

When I don't see any of that, I fall into the deep lair of delusion. I fall so fast, at such speed that I lose consciousness. I lose my mind, my soul, my control and I turn savage. Savage to want what I want, to get what I want, to get to you. The desperation lingers in my eyes and I lurch around the corner, waiting for the right moment to jump and cease it.

This is heaven to me, and I protect it with all I have till I breathe,

This is my love. This is my life.

Running in circles.

That's all I seem to be doing. Running around, hoping to catch your eye, hoping for you to catch mine and see all the love and remorse I hold in them. Just look into them once and you'd know. But you never do. And that just puts me down. Way down under for cognizance or existence. The harder I try, the faster we crash. Where is the love? Where is your heart? I don't think I can feel you anymore... What do I need to become to have you back in my life again? Name it.

Where do I run to, to escape this pain? It hurts more than a dagger through my heart. This pain is so deep, embedded into my being and stings every second that I live. i seem to repel you. Every word that I say angers you. Every breath that I take infuriates you. It's like I'm a closed chapter in your life already... I want to rewrite the chapter... Give it a happy ending. See your shining eyes light up everytime you see me walk up. It's only a dream now, and even the dream barely ever shows up when I close my eyes.

I'm such a crying shame. But just look into my eyes once... and things might just change.

Far away.

In those eyes that reflected love once upon a time, I look so deeply and yet a confusion takes over me. There is something that stands in the way, I see so in the half smiles and the empty gazes....those lonely moments of eerie silence, the gasps of air in between making love. The stony stares which I look away from and the unkempt promises that you choose to overlook. I walk beside and you seem to walk alone, I gaze at you dreamily and you seem to dream another dream, I laugh with you and you stop suddenly.... I can feel the love, in parts even so but there is the void, a listless nimbus that hovers over us... cursing...
I look up, praying every night of every day, praying for the wicked witch of the west of let us be... but she consumes me more and more everyday, pushing me onto the path of skeptism and non-belief... but then I see you, trying... putting aside your pride, your hurt, your anger and trying... hoping and along th way sprinkling those snow flakes of love upon me... and I realize that all my prayers are answered. It will be better, it will rain, it will shine, yet another day...and you and I both see, the day isn't so far away.

Hanging on for hope- A true story.

Forbidden Love.

In an alcove in the woods,
Naked, she stood.
Creepers entwined her toes,
Her face the color of a blooming rose.

Under the jittery raindrops,
Amongst a lair of wild crops,
She stood alone, confused,
Her heart however, was enthused.

She felt an eye upon her,
His eyes the brightest amber,
He looked a little mystified,
Lost, perplexed, unidentified.

A wry smile ran across her face,
He returned the favor with umpteen grace,
Walked little steps, closer and near,
And established a love most sincere.

The rain clouds outdrew,
The sun shone through,
Miles of meadows multiplied,
Paradise- they espied.

To the zenith of bliss; they rose,
For life one another, they chose.
But the heavens had planned otherwise,
The nimbus, the rain-implies.

The little battles, they fought they won,
But sooner or later, they would be outrun,
They realized the end had dawned
Fate had them tricked and conned.

This love never meant to survive,
The thick, the thin, the connive.
It blew past like the piquant tempest,
Strong, agile and mystically sweetest.

Echo.

In an empty four by four room, a lone window overlooks the majestic hills. The roach on the opposite wall often beats it's antennae together to hear the sound being reflected from the magnanimous mountain. It pleased her.

The strange aura of dictatorship from the mountain, how it held within the power to break or build anything, starting from a sound to a season, enticed the roach.

One day, she decided, she wanted to go upfront and feel the mountain, for herself. Ignoring everyone, she clicked her toes together and started her voyage towards the great mountain of the north. She was scared, after all what does a roach say to the majestic king when she gets there...? She thought of something flattering yet witty to say to him once she got to the top. She reached the foothill and looked upwards... it was a long way from home, indeed and the path looked spuriously dangerous. But she gathered up all her courage and started her ascent. She saw a lot of little things on her way that reminded her of home and the comfort that she has left behind. But she had her mind set and focused on availing the love of her life for good.

She got to the top. The sheer magnanimity scared her lifeless but she held her ground. A look and she knew, he was all she wanted. She wanted to be the only echo he'd reflect...

But he never opened his eyes to look at her and left her at the top, all alone and cold.

She was just another echo.

Life in Purple.

Pictures courtesy: National Geographic.

Charlatan Tales.

So it happened once again when she looked out of her tainted window to find yet another person holding a shot gun to her face. She turned to the right, turned to the left and every where she turned daggers pointed straight in her eye. She tried to muffle enough air in her mouth and held it for as long as she could and then let out the mouthful in one go. When her patience died. She closed her eyes said a prayer. She mumbled a few lines, for all those who cared, and the with closed eyes walked straight on. Images of smiling faces and sounds of laughter filled her ears and just as she expected the jagged edge of the dagger to run right through her, she survived. Through the corner of her eye, she saw you clearing out one dagger after the other and paving her path. With eyes closed tight and a smile plastered on her thin cracked lips, she kept on walking till she fell in your arms and you held her like you held her the first time. She sunk into you and you stroked her hair, she said another little prayer while you held her hand, she pressed her ears to your chest while you heartbeat continued to soar, and then she cried. Little tear drops that you could neither see nor feel but dollops of which her heart cried. Silently, discreetly but in amounts beyond measure.

The sun finally shone on her side of town, the satiated rainbow finally regained its colors...but something's got to give, she knew, the question was what? And soon it began to peep it's ugly head out of what was most special. The demonic resurgence of all that was wrong with her today... came to life...very slowly, very steadily and very secretively. It began to grow... and still grows... and begins to pray again. Chant the incantations aloud this time and a spurious smile to ornament the pain and the pangs.

Revelations.

When the road less traveled seems like the devil's incarnate and the red rose of love has Satan's head embossed on it... it's no wonder the path is untrodden upon for ever and after. But when the west wind blows towards that road and washes out the sin and suffering and paves a primrose path for the wayward wanderer why are people still afraid to walk it? Many a times, the changes that dawn upon us in the worst of situations are the changes that last. It is those changes that carve a human out of an embryo and a woman out of a little naive girl. To face your worst fears and hold out knowing that what is most important and indispensable might never return or look back for that matter is heart wrenching. But just knowing that perhaps the wait will be worth it to make sun shine again, the birds chirp again is reason enough to wait a lifetime or even more for that matter.

Revelations, lead to a whole lot of things that otherwise were untouched upon. It introduces a conscience amidst the most savage and brutal. A steady head on the most unsteady, a smile on the eternally upset or a nod of acceptance from the forever rejected. It led to the most stimulating change in my life. What was fine forever to keep, that which I disregarded mercilessly, is what I need to keep me sane and it is what will keep me sane in any case. I could smile those hollow smiles in front of those strangers and vagabonds but when he is around I fall weak on any expression except regret and repent. People change, so do they deserve another chance to exercise their change? When they promise not to hurt...when they promise not to salvage and singe the truth, when they promise to be there... do they?

All Apologies.

I ducked the sliver flash that went past me, I hid from the holocaust and saved myself. I saw the little fireflies buzz their fluttery wings and I drowned in the music of those little things. I closed my eyes, to imbibe the moment I closed them a little too tight because what I saw after the lids were shut is still looming over me like a haunted kite.

The cocoon of a butterfly unfurled so slowly, the leaves fell of the tree majestically, I fell from grace at a snails pace and you broke into tears like a sweet symphony. I held your tears as they rolled down your cheek, I kept them in an oyster's shell. I held your face in my cupped hands lightly as you wept me out your sorrowful tale. I rummaged through the scraps like a hungry stray dog, I picked up pieces like a urchin child. You held your gaze in milky starlight, in your heart you had me exiled. I breathed truth in your ears, you didn't hear me, I smelt the love in your caustic heart. Yet you didn't say those words so dear to me, I nodded understood your rubble path.

It's hard I know more for you than me, and yet it's hope that's keeps me on. Don't give up on me, I grieve so coarsely this moment is all I've ever had.

Salty Dream.

You are the only thing I want...
The only thing I can’t get...
You are the deepest residue of the word sorrow...
You are the only wish ungranted...
The only joy unknown...
You are what awakens me...
And what puts me into deepest of slumbers...
You are what I need...
And yet your very name makes me feel empty inside....
You are the root of all desire...
And yet you are the fire of destruction...
You are so much...
Yet sometimes just empty and meaningless...
You are the smile I need...
You are the last tear drop I dry...
Sometimes I wish you were here...
But then just sometimes I hate you for being so far away...
Life plays games...
And you seem to be playing well...
Making me so sad...
And yet happy all over again....
You are the very essence of life...
My last breath...
You make me want to live on and wait...
And yet your absence makes me want to die...
Will u ever come back??
Will I ever see u smile...
Or just hold me in your arms...
Hug me just for a while???
Will you dry the unwatered tears...?
Will you see the oceans behind the emptiness...?
Or will u just pretend not to understand...
And fail to recognize...
Will you deny the love...?
Or will you hide it somewhere
Or will u just let it bloom
Like a flower that’s so rare...
Will it ever happen??
Or will it all end just the same way it does every morning...
Just another painful dream??
Will you change it for me....
Or will u just let it be...
Will u be the one I need...
Or will u rather decide to remain a treasured memory...??
A part of the scattered past...
A past that’s too silent to awake...
A past that’s too dead to understand....
Too painful to relive...
You are not all this...
Neither all that...
All I know is u were the only one I had...
And now your place is empty...
Just a vacuum no one can fill....
And yet that’s because it’s too hard to let you go...
Too hard to part with the last thing I have...
Too hard to leave back memories....
Memories that cry by...
Those flash a thousand times a second...
And sometimes just walk oh so slow....
Are u all this??
Are u all that??
Are you anything??
Or just another meaningless dream...?
A dream I live by...
A dream too hard
A dream too complicated...
A dream...
Just another salty dream...
Dream with tears...
Dream with emotions...
Dream with sorrow and pain and grief...
A dream too hard to live by...
A dream impossible to let die...
It must be a dream...
It is a dream...
The tears in my eyes are just a ritual...
This is nothing but a dream........
Oh just another salty dream...

Frenzy.

I've cried a million rivers,
And named them all for you,
You've made the tear drops bigger,
With every word you spewed.

Your mouth that lunged in lies,
Your eyes that veiled the truth,
Your face so curt precise,
Your heart stone cold blue.

I've sinned more than Satan himself, I've created a crater for me knowing too damn well how deep I had dug it for me.I've made too many mistakes to make any rights, told too many lies to take any back, hurt too many innocent people to beg for any forgiveness and disappointed a million other who mean so much to me. It is a habit, and he is right, I don't deserve any happiness, any compassion, any empathy whatsoever. I am so evil,I should rot in hell. I made him cry more than he had all his life through and he has no one but me to blame for it. I sunk his morale so low, he had to reach out from the back of the coffin to find it again. He has found love in the eyes of someone else and she will keep him happier than I could ever because I don't deserve him. She will be his Princess and make him feel so special that he will get over all the pain he had ever felt with me. Sadly enough, I know who she is and she is so dear to me too. I can't live like this.My world has crashed and burnt in front of my eyes and I have no one but me to blame for it. I have ruined something so special that to awaken it from its death sleep I need to die. And if that is what it takes, so be it. I don't want to live this in any case. It's too painful. It's hurting him to see me alive it's hurting me to breathe with the guilt and shame of all of it. It is killing him to pretend to laugh and smile with me, it is killing me to see him having to pretend. How do I make it all go away? Maybe I should go away. I am the girl of his nightmares who made it seem so perfect once upon a time. He gave up everything he ever loved for me and I just threw everything back at his face without caring for anyone or anything but me. He wants to see my blood rum down the gutters and sooner or later you will. I will lie in front of you and die in your memories.

Captive.

In a dingy dark room with some horrid music in the back drop, a screechy sound emerges out of no where. People turn around but to their amazement see no one. Sipping their draughts, they swim back into their ocean of thoughts and frenzy of conversation. The screech emerges yet again. This time a few more heads turn and they see nothing. Again. The fluency of thoughts continue to fly by and the babbles of everyday life perches from lip to lip. Out of nowhere, again, the disturbing sound surges through, this time around only a few heads turn that too owing to reflex and not because they seemingly cared.

She gazed at each one of those people in the room,living their fancy perfect lives, delusional yet so content in the plasticity of their existence. Her eyes shone through the key hole like emeralds in the African Kalahari. Her screams echoed through the little orifice and augmented through like a gang of banshees out loose. Even so,she was unheard. She smiled to herself thinking of what will possibly become of such oblivious beings once everything material and palpable is extinguished and all that's left is incoherence and impermeability. Her face was drenched in sweat beads and her eyes were stained of the tears that she had cried. Her throat was parched for she spent every second screaming to herself and biting into the bitterness of her captivity. Even then, she never once wished she was out there.

" I'd rather die in here than have to live a life of lies and pretense. A life where every breath is traded for something immoral and patronizing. A life where blaring sounds are inaudible. Where will this life take anyone? How can one survive asphyxiating oneself and others around themselves and even then living in the pretensive company of figmental felicity."

She scratches her forearm to feel any sort of feeling. All her senses have hibernated and she feels nothing. Numbed by the emotions that might have once been a part of her. Numbed by the noises that surround her lonesome vicinity. Numbed by the voices in her head that tell her it's all over. She's a captive in her own life- a prisoner in her own right and a felon for being felt at any point. Ever.

So why should she not shriek? Why should she not cry? Why should she not taint her face with blood lest tears dry out? She doesn't. She just smiles. Smiles her broken smile to the innocent people living in the black and white film of life. Smiles.

Stop.

Stop.

Look to your right.

Look to your left.

Stare.

Cross.

Die.

Kiss of death.

So it be let out, the words that haunt the hollowness. The intent so wrong and the heart that has been blackened. The head of the wraith like snake that slithers into the caverns of destitution and oppression. So far deep into the cavern that it begins to radiate the tyranny and monotony of the so-called evil and unpropitious. Slowly the mouth parts and the the lips tremble, sweat beads on the forehead and your breathing paces, your eyes close and you draw me into you. I look around fro help, eyes wide with panic. The terror of death and found its way to unwrap my worst nightmares.

He leans in, his arms around my waist, pulls me closer and finally his lips meet mine. The dreaded kiss of death. And now I have no way about and out. For I have kissed my own death right on the mouth and welcomed the anguish and desolation that goes hand in hand with it. I handed my life to you, I bled my heart out in your palms and you squeezed it dry till there was no more beating or pumping- any signs of recuperation.

Even as I fall to sleep for the last time, a slight tear rolls down my eye. In memory of all that was good and every second that you made me smile. The flashes of the good years run across like an old movie and I wish I could freeze time as I lay on the stony pathway bled and dried. You left no stone unturned and en cashed my misery and woo-ed me into believing that you were good for me. I'm no angel, you will pay for this. And you too will get your share of woe and misery from one you trust and love.
You too shall be kissed on the mouth by Death and left in a plight as sinister as mine.

Cursed.

Abandoned.

In the street all alone...
Cold and lonely feeling helpless...
I look around without any trace of help...
No recognizable faces in the crowd...

I fall down and bruise my knees...
A slight dusty breeze gushes across my face...
And yet no sign of help...
Abandoned... Why me?

The simpler way.

Fear- The ticking alarm clock in ones head that defines the boundaries and distances. Insecurities and spaces amongst the crevices of hope and wonder.

The images of the yesterdays which filled fear in our hearts then are the elixir of our strength today. That is an universal truth mostly looked past. Eddying about and darting that doesn't change anything, it worsens the wounds. So face up. I learnt. The simpler way.

Don't believe in angels of mercy and a Guiding ray of light. To be able to look in the mirror every morning and look oneself in the eye and not shirk away with shame and pity, that is being brave. I discovered.The simpler way.

Having the courage to stand tall against all odds and still not regret what was wrong then is optimism. I perceived. The simpler way.

Words flow perhaps with no emotions but what about the eye thats seen it all? And what about the words from that mouth itself. Choked and veiled under a mask of indifference and immunity. Strenght. I admire. The simpler way.

Loquacious adulations. But for the deserved? Lets discover. Yet again, The simpler way.
While the quiet child inside suffers and learns. The hardest way.

Up in flames.

“All things, oh priests, are on fire . . . The eye is on fire; forms are on fire; eye-consciousness is on fire; impressions received by the eye are on fire.”

- Buddha quote

It's hard. When you hold up only ashes of yesterday in an open palm and a light gush of wind blows it away. It's hard to decide whether you want to be angry at nature, relieved or just indifferent. What is the right thing to be? To just stay rooted to the ground wishing for an earthquake to awaken you from the dream you are seeing with your eyes open. how can you do justice to your head, heart, body and soul and still keep yourself believing?
Mistaking a good omen and misinterpreting... or looking at the glass half full... what is right? who is to say, who is to judge?

Mighty are those you say with conviction that their belief is strong and that nothing can shatter it. Hilarious in my dictionary. Since when are things really what they look like? Since when has deception and pretence anold fashioned game plan? who changed the rules and forgot to inform me? I still think life is not so predictable and that's what makes me want to wake up every morning. I'm not the most adventurous person in the world but a little serving of adventure and thrill gets my adrenaline pumping, yes.

Incoherence- the most powerful and absolute truth.

Absolution.

Sometimes I wonder if anything is absolute anymore... if there's still a right and wrong, good and bad, truth and lies... or is everything negotiable? Left to interpretation, gray amidst the patent black and white. Sometimes we're forced to bend the truth. Transform it. Because we're faced with things that are not of our own making. And sometimes... things simply catch up to us. Served to us, right in front and yet we miss it. The obvious truth to an oblivious eye. And at that time, we're scared, so scared that to face the truth becomes a burden only your conscience can allow you look at or look past. When that happens, you seem to fall apart, in your head, in your heart and every bit of reason that you pride yourself in believing in...

But sooner or later, we realize that truth is still absolute. Believe that. Even when that truth is hard and cold and more painful than you've ever imagined. And even when truth is more cruel than any lie ever told.

Falling from grace.

I crawled under the mystic light, to see the halo shining bright.
And every other thing that was in between us...
I feel from grace and bruised my heart,
And spent every single hour,
Wiping away tears that overflew...yeah.

The heights to which you promised love, the zenith of the broken trust.
The moonlight and the dances underneath it.
The memories of a contuse core,
you left estranged wanting more...



More and more... so much more... it pains to even think how much. And what could've been... The plethora of possibilities and all that could've been...
Unanswered questions...

Anywhere but here.

Like the rainbow exudes... stays for a second and then leaves without any hint about when it will show up next- I want to flee. Away into the darkness, into the tint and shade of that nightmare where I feel safe and protected. I want to feel that innocence that only the kid inside me can bring. I want to live past the horrors that today brought and walk into the dread of the indeterminate tomorrow.

I am no longer afraid, because you have given me the strength to be anywhere but here. I choke on my own air and suffocate in the same surrounding that once aroused the mortal in me. I can dare to be happy and hold myself back from the malicious smile I wanted to smile all along. I can dream to desire the forbidden fruit and voice the verboten verses that swindle in my head. I am not afraid. I can be.

You've shown me that I can be, anywhere but here. But you have clouded my destination by your antipathy and shown me no signs of backing off or rue. I shudder, but I follow my heart. I block my fear, look it in the eye, tell it I'm strong I will make it through the rain. I don't need your sympathy. I miss my friends. Everyone who pretended to care, but has left me helpless and in the time of need. Because you said so. I wish you were here to see me make it. Someplace you thought only you can take me. On the brink of bliss and yet I shed a lonesome tear, remembering how good it would have been if you were here. However, I'd be anywhere but here...In the comfort of your arms, in the cradle of your love.

People Always Leave.

And you fire up your engine, listen to it hurl, feel all the horse power pumping... the pistons racing against each other, competing. You sit in the driver's seat, feel the breeze in your hair, wipe the tears from your eyes, look at the long unending road, and the glow of the green light. And then, as the light ticks to red, you speed off into that murky road...hoping to be held back but wishing not.

What you don't know is that feeling of being invincible and oh so free is so liberating at first and then starts to gag your being altogether. When you turn to the ones you trust and the slam the door at your face. When life closes all it's doors at you...when not even a window is left ajar. Where do you run to? Whom do you turn to?

When no one comes to your rescue, and you're left unspoken to. Left untouched and unloved. The thin red line between sanity and reality, when it's left far far behind the prescribed and the savior turns his back... you realize, nothing lasts forever. You realize that it's too late to hope for any change and that everything ceases to realism.

That's when every part you clings onto memories and yesterday. You're thrown off-course and made to believe that nothing and no one will ever stand by you. You're lingering in the eerie silence of loneliness and destitute and nothing can save you from fate.

People always leave.

Dawn

Awaken- to the light of the morning. To the mist of the day. To the smell of the ocean. To the walk in the rain.

Open- to the possibilities of now. To the doors that lead afar. To the hues of the sunlight. Grazing its way into the dark.

Speak- to your mind. To your soul. To your weakness when it takes it toll.

Arise- Head held high to the sky. Awaken the fire that keeps you alive.

Dawn.Purity.Sanctity.Serenity.


Unperturbed.

Kindly Unspoken.

Unspoken words often go on to mean more than just what words can say.

Silence- A feeling, a sensation.

The eerie silence.
The cold wind.
The shuddering chill down your spine.
All of these with just saying nothing at all.
Now that is enticing, that is power.

A slight touch. A gazed look. A piercing glare.
The spectral conjure.
An innovation in its own.

Kindly Unspoken. I show my emotions.
That's all it takes to tell myself, I'm okay.

Be inspired.

Confused Confessions

Unfaithful.
Insecure.
Obsessive.
Obscure.

Thoughts that linger in my mind. A persistent itch of discomfort. A sinking feeling of disdain. A perpetual giddy guilt.
A rainbow trickles some black and white. Indeed the birds sing for me, tonight.
Passive passions. Unruly encounters.
Story ended in bittersweet burial.

Monotonous Monstrous. Deceivingly reviving and then finally choking into the calm of the night.
Gentle breezes carry the sound. Hazardous hues smile upon me and I stand in the corner head ducked down.

Ashamed.
Afraid.
Compulsive.
Dead.

Guilt Trip.

No, this is not one of those trips I enjoy taking. The sheer guilt, kills me. Unless of course I've been told that it's okay and that being actually meant. Hmph.
And when the faces become like this, it's even worse. Disappointment- nothings as bad as that but well, it is just a polite way of saying, "I want to slit your throat."
Corresponding to what is being said on the other end, an apology sure doesn't mean anything. And thus the indifference. Oh, the silence. Boo-hoo. Call me Drama Queen, but hey I don't like people being mad at me. Especially, one's that I really care about. :(

Me no likes.

Reaching out.

Lightening strikes. The chime bells chime. The chorus echoes. The colors fade. All that remains.
All that's holy. All that's kind. Lost and Found.

This is heaven to no one else but me, and I'll defend it as long as I can be, left here to linger in silence.

What I chose, from where I've come.

The debris of a broken soul.
The scraps of an untamed mind.

The desires which I run to fulfill. And the loneliness I attempt to disguise. The broken smiles to fix to lighten my mind. An unfurled heart to escape this cavern of eddying hope. Alas, the bright light. I walk. Glide into the arms of togetherness and bliss.
I hold its hand and wrap my fingers with its. I duck down and hear its heart beat. It beats. It breathes. The warm breath that imparts hysteria to my cold numb being. The only thing that calms me. The next best place to home. The glinting eyes that motion for forgiveness and benevolence. I believe. I am beautiful. It makes me believe. I am beautiful.

Falling Apart

So this past week has been hurdles all along. What becomes of the next few months, years, lifetime. Who knows? All I know is if asking for what you rightfully deserve is a sin then I'm Damien. It's deplorable. These standards we set for ourselves. These routines we determine which hold no good reason or sense. And to top it all off, the we fight to save it. What for? For a new beginning to more unstoppable nonsense. Why do people get themselves involved in stuff like this? Why do I?

Especially men with their chauvinistic approaches to things and that stuck up mentality that permits no imagination or liberation for that matter. Treat me like I'm human, for Christ's sake. I too may have demands, expectations. And all of that, just gets thrown out of the window, each time they're mentioned. Indeed, this is some one sided story, but My Blog, My rules. My generalizations. I'm so sick of these compromises and these "forever" promises. Let me breathe.

Spotting

Pointing fingers and asking questions to no one in particular. Trying to find the meaning of this bit. Is it just a phase or a little more than just that? Is it just a nightmare waiting to be believed and then to haunt every possible outcome of it's existence?
What is right? Who decides? Since when have we become moral police for just about everybody else? Why is every sacrifice looked upon as a favor or debt? It's humiliating. Selflessness is a long forgotten virtue and yes, we built the void and then, complain. The human way to escape. The sane way to live. Shying away from what is real and cooping up in holes of disguise and deceit. The new way to live. And we live. Lavishly. Luxuriously. Conscience knocks but we ignore knowing we'd have to face reality and oh! that sunshine will burn us to bits. Crawling to protection. Hoping for that one inch of space, which has been traded with that extravagant smile.
Spotting.
The wrong, the bad, the good, the great. Conquering a delusional state and living in it for us. For you. Squeezing in that scrap of integrity to stand with my head held high. Beside you. For you to look down at me and want me. But for how long? Stretching the limits beyond and away. How long do I hold on. Can't be insane anymore. Can't wish for perfection, no more. Perfection closed its door right from when it was ajar and I miscalculated and shut it tight.
Spotting.

Fading.

Extinguished.

Elsewhere...

A ballad that describes my love.

Did Sarah Mclachlan, read my unscripted autobiography and then decide to sing this song. It is for anyone who has been misunderstood, unheard or perhaps done wrong. A soulful mix of pain, hurt and what I like to call, the sweet revelation.

And yes, it is addictive. Like a drug.

Patrick Jablonski Masterpieces.

Speaking to me

When things go wrong, everything seems wrong. And when the little ray of hope shines, all the misery seems so worth it. And yet, we seem to overlook what is the essence of that hope, misery or sorrow. In our own pursuit of happiness we forget what we must truly be grateful to. Everyone has those bad phases in life. when nothing seems to strike a chord with what you really want. In fact, you become so detached that you let yourself go. One hundred percent. It's emancipation- the soul from it's body. You connect. And that's when you know you've seen it all and you could die right then and have no regrets.

Being 18, you wouldn't think such an opportunity would come knocking at my door. It is that time of life when you think you own the world and you strut your stuff like you don't give a damn. Loud music blares in your head and you dance to its tunes like the pied piper's mice. Amusing. Nothing can satisfy or hold your attention for more than 2 days and if it does, then well there you have it- Naysa, miracle of god. The world seems like a spinning wheel of fortune right now. To me atleast. Every spin can change my life and in some bizarre way I'm enthralled by the idea. I'm not a rebel but I don't like convention. I'm not gothic but I don't like the butterflies and the spring. I'm not angry, but I don't like to smile a trillion watts. I'm not a realist, but I don't like imagining my life through. So where does that leave me? In this dark alley that extends beyond life, truth, love, fantasy, existence.Oh, and such are the thoughts that infiltrate my mind all year long. A hard outer covering protects me from the permeating hypocrisy that has taken over the best of us. But inside, it's a whirlpool of delusion, indecisive derivations and mind boggling questions. So who is in a hurry to answer all my questions? I don't think I'd answer all of them ever. The truth about life and death, of love and hate, of right and wrong and all the roads less traveled.

Misanthrope Monolugue, it is

Simple sayings swindle slowly
Mystic feelings choke and gag me
Inhibitions drop down to earth
I fall from grace but it doesn't hurt.

Polka dots, stars and stripes
My veins are clogged blood rushes in pipes
Voices boom, echo and fade
Reminiscing the moment, I swayed.I swayed.

Marching soldiers, dancing dwarfs
Fairy tales and real life both morphed
Smoke rises out of sight
I look above and see a bright white light.

Angels don't sing, the clouds don't part
The light vanishes,the clouds depart
Nothing remotely sensational sails
My thoughts provoked, mind impaled.

Mindless mumbles, blabber and spew
Conscience knocks,fearful reviews
Dejected opinions begin to sink in
I gulp another glass of tonic and gin.

Drunk, stoned, out of wits
Another day, same story remits
No help, no hand to hold and caress,
My life's a series of crimes I confessed.

Here I am now, in a lone corner estranged
Feeling delusional and endlessly deranged
The mind of a troubled rebel recluse
Head spinning free endless torture induced.


And so it goes. The mind of a troubled recluse. What is so torturous? What is so painful? Questions that swindle from one being to another and yet rest in the fissures of nothingness and eternity.

Besides Me...

And all that is left of me is bits and scraps that the old dogs ever so kindly refrained to touch.
For all those times I counted tears that fell in my lap, and the heart that crashed and burnt. For every memory long forgotten and every sacrifice unnoticed.

Nothing completes as well as this. People hear but no one listens as well as this. My drug, my addiction, my passion. And no you don't take this away. Because I am stronger than ever before. Holding on. Passing over. Moving on.

Hated you ever since I cried in your arms and you washed it away with no loving. And you are family, I suppose. Give me the li'l pink bicycle and the purple hoola-hoops, the black worn out sneakers and the puddles of mud in the rain. The backyard swing set. The silver stars. The Halloween treats. The nuzzling.

How would you take it away? the pain, the hate, the lies, the empty promises.

Betrayed.